Buller's first attempt was to turn Botha's right, but after five days hard fighting he withdrew and fixed his attention on Spion Kop. General Botha had left only a guard of fifteen men on this kop, and in the very early morning of January 24th, a large force of Buller's men surprised them and drove them off. General Buller now had possession of the kop, and there was no valid reason why he and his big army should not march into Ladysmith with but little trouble or delay. But they didn't, and I will tell why they didn't.
General Buller had failed to get permission of a small band of Boer patriots who were near at hand. About ninety men of the Carolina Commando crawled up the kop, and, having reached the crest, immediately opened fire on the British force. Thus began the great battle, the bloody and disastrous Battle of Spion Kop. The ninety Boers were soon re-enforced by small detachments following each other up the kop until the total number reached about 250 men. The English held the kop, occupied the defences, and besides had at least fifteen men to every Boer.
GOOD ENGLISHMEN AFTER SPION KOP LYING ON THE SIDE HILL.
Counting the Boers on the right and left sides of the kop who also took part in the fight, the total number of them engaged was about 600, but the actual number on the kop, who alone fought the big English force, was about 250 men. The Boers and the English were within easy point-blank range of each other, and at some points no more than fifty yards separated them. Here was the time, the place and the opportunity for the British to display that bold courage, that dash and fighting quality of which they have been boasting for centuries, for, with their overwhelming numbers, they would have easily swept that little handful of Boers off the kop. But they positively declined to take advantage of such conditions to display British pluck and courage, and, in the end, were themselves swept off. In their wars with the blacks, it had been their rule to hoist the Union Jack, boldly advance as at Khartoum, and when they discovered a horde of unarmed and defenceless negroes, make a mad rush, fall upon them and shoot them down; then apply the cold steel, and when they have murdered the last one and see him lying at their feet, with blood gurgling from his mouth, give three cheers for the Union Jack, and everyone at once apply for a Victoria Cross.
But on Spion Kop it was different, for no Union Jack was hoisted, no Union Jack brought to the battlefield, no rush was made, because a Boer was there, with a mauser in his hand—and that was a horse of another color.—So the British halted and trembled, and then threw up the sponge and retreated as fast as their legs would take them, each hoping that he might escape the fatal bullet and receive his well deserved Victoria Cross. I may here add that when you find any one so decorated with the Victoria Cross, you may generally put him down as a worthless son of a lord, or as a puny specimen of a puny, dissolute, diseased nobility, or the son of some moneyed, unscrupulous politician to whom the English Government must bow in obeisance. One in a thousand who has been decorated may deserve it, but I even have my doubts about that. Nearly all the officers and men of the British army who have been given the Victoria Cross you will find in an English company's cigarette packages, and that is just where they belong.
I shall not try to tell all that happened about Spion Kop, because every reader would cry out, "the same old story." I must tell this, however; Buller's fifty or more cannon fairly tore the top off all our hills on both sides of Spion Kop, ploughed them up, pulverized them, and put them in perfect condition for sowing oats and planting mealies, but up to January 24th had killed only two Boers, an old man and his son, although more than 3000 lyddite shells had been fired. Joe Chamberlain and his pals made plenty of money that week, for tons of lyddite were consumed. The whole atmosphere was fairly laden with the yellow, sulphurous-looking lyddite fumes, and the Boers who finally emerged from their trenches looked like so many Chinamen. They were yellow about the eyes, nose, mouth and neck, and their clothes were yellow too; but when they washed their faces they were Boers again, and very lively ones at that. The effect, and the only affect of Mr. Joe Chamberlain's lyddite fumes was to give the Carolina boys strength and courage enough to paralyze the Tommies as fast as they could show themselves on Spion Kop. This was a great blow to Mr. Chamberlain, because it meant a great future loss to him financially, for it disclosed the fact that lyddite in itself was very harmless; indeed, if any of Mr. Chamberlain's lyddite should, by accident, strike a Boer squarely in the chest, it is my honest opinion that that Boer would be put out of action; but, as is usually the case, if Mr. Chamberlain's lyddite shell should happen to miss the Boer by an inch or two, why, that Boer would be liable to drop more Tommies before that fight was over.
Louis Botha showed himself in great form, for he so placed his cannon and maxims that they could sweep the side hills and the Tugela Valley below Spion Kop, and, like a new broom, they made a clean sweep of everything. How that fight did rage during that whole day! It was heartrending to stand and watch the little band of heroic Boers face fifteen bullets for every one they could send; but bravely and unflinchingly they held their ground and won the admiration of the world. Spion Kop and the adjacent hills were in a shiver, convulsion after convulsion followed, as lyddite shell after lyddite shell penetrated and tore up the earth.
I must here mention that at one time during the struggle on the kop, the English felt that it was too hot for them, and naturally they hoisted three or four white flags. The Boers stopped firing at once, and four or five of them advanced to accept the surrender. Before reaching the defences, Colonel Thornycroft with re-enforcements arrived on the scene, hauled down the white flags and ordered the firing to recommence. The four or five Boers would have been shot down, had not the twenty-three English, who had already laid down their arms, accompanied them as they ran back to their lines. Fighting was now resumed and continued as if nothing had happened, until it grew too hot for the English again, and once more the white flags were hoisted. The Boers continued in their good work, regardless of the flags, and, as a result, the English are howling to this day about the Boers firing upon the white flags. If they hadn't fired upon them every one would have deserved being shot himself. Time and time again during the war, the English would hoist the white flag for no other reason than to get the Boers to cease firing until they could get their own men in proper position, when they would declare that no one was authorized to hoist the white flag, and that the fighting must continue. The result was that after a time the Boer would not recognize the white flag, for he could no longer trust the English, and to surrender, the latter had to throw down their rifles, hold up their hands and advance towards the Boers. Although the English denounced this way of having to surrender as low, suspicious and cowardly, yet thousands upon thousands of them went through the formula before the war came to an end. It never occurred to them that the Boers were forced to adopt that precaution as a safeguard against treachery!
MORE GOOD ENGLISHMEN LYING ON THE SIDE HILL.
During the six days' fighting the Boers lost fifty killed and about 120 wounded. I don't know the British loss, but I hope that at some time during the twentieth century, the truth will leak out, and the number of the British killed and wounded become known. The top of the kop was covered with them; the sides of the kop and the Tugela Valley were also strewn with the dead and wounded, and the Boers were not curious enough to take the trouble to count them. The Boers requested the English to come and bury their dead, and the English, in reply, asked the Boers to bury them, and send them the bill. The gods might be able to make a comment to fit that bill, but earthly mortals would do well to hold their tongues. So I will pass on to General White and his inactivity.
CHAPTER VIII.
WHITE'S INCAPACITY.
Ourinvestment circle was thirty-six miles in length, and at the time the Battle of Colenso was fought, was held by not more than 4,000 men. From Ladysmith to Colenso is about fifteen miles by the main road. By Colenso was General Buller with his army 35,000 strong. In Ladysmith was General White with his army 12,000 strong. Between these two armies was General Botha with his army less than 6,000 strong, including the investment forces south of Ladysmith. General Botha had, all told, ten guns. The two British forces had 150 guns. If, when Buller attacked at Colenso, December 15th, White had moved out with his whole forces to the south and attacked at the same time, the Boers would have been swamped in a few hours, and most of them would have been captured, for there was no way out of it except by Ladysmith, and, besides, they would have lost all their guns. On January 24th, the same conditions prevailed, except that there were no mountains between Ladysmith and Spion Kop, and the intervening distance was about eighteen miles. Spion Kop is plainly visible from all parts around Ladysmith. The Boer force on the west side of Ladysmith was less than 1,000 strong. Had General White moved out with his entire force and fifty guns, he could have marched to Spion Kop almost without interruption. What did he do on both occasions when he should have been up and doing, if he wished to join Buller, see Ladysmith relieved, and the Boer forces captured and destroyed? Why, he and his 12,000 men simply lay in their holes and silently prayed for Buller's success. When all the conditions are considered, it must be plain to the most simple minded that General White deserved to be forever buried in utter disgrace, but, instead, he was congratulated, promoted and dined by his queen for his gallantry and success in nearly starving to death some 15,000 soldiers, women and children in Ladysmith. On both of these memorable days the Boers around Ladysmith were all on needles and pins, for they fully expected White and his army to move out, and they knew that if he did it would be impossible for them to prevent a union with Buller, and the consequent destruction of the Boer forces in Natal.
While General Botha was fighting the Battles of Colenso and Spion Kop, Commandant-General Joubert remained at his headquarters by Ladysmith, and on the first of these occasions I remember hearing him say: "No, General White will not make any attempt to unite with General Buller, because he has been defeated so often, that both he and his men are thoroughly cowed and will be satisfied to remain concealed, and fervently hope for Buller's success." As it turned out, he proved to be perfectly correct in his surmises.
About ten days after Spion Kop, February 5th, another attempt was made to break through our lines at Vaal Krantz, by about 3,500 men and several batteries. To oppose these was General Viljoen with less than 100 men. An exciting, hot fight ensued, and, wonderful to say, the English forces retired, recrossed the river, and made no further attempt to accomplish anything in the vicinity of Spion Kop. During the fight General Viljoen with two or three men took a desperate chance to save a pom-pom from capture. Under a terrific rifle fire, they hauled the pom-pom across a long flat, and then turned it on the English with great effect. Neither he, nor his men, nor any of the horses were touched, yet all passed through a perfect shower of bullets. In this fight at Vaal Krantz, the Irish Brigade lost three of its bravest, noblest and most patriotic men: Pat Fahey, Mat Brennen and Jim Lasso. They fell as the most advanced men, and they will ever be remembered most affectionately by the Irish boys.
GENERAL BEN VILJOEN
Now I come to the final struggle at Ladysmith, when that awful hole was relieved, and the Boer forces retreated to the Biggarsberg Mountains, eighteen miles back on the road to Dundee.
To meet Buller, General Botha withdrew all his forces from Spion Kop and vicinity, and put them in their old positions in front of Colenso. As to whether General Buller really discovered that Langwani Hill was the key to our positions, or tumbled on to it by accident, I do not know, but, certain it was, that he was intent on getting possession of this hill, by making a flank attack on our extreme left. Langwani Hill was on Buller's side of the river, and once our left was turned, we could no longer hold it. It was not till February 18th that General Buller brought fifteen or sixteen batteries to play upon the Boer positions. It would prove tedious to describe the ten days of terrible fighting that preceded the relief of Ladysmith; so I will simply speak of it in a general way.
Buller finally succeeded in turning the Boers' left, and so Langwani Hill was abandoned, but not until the English had suffered severely. At Pieters Hill, Groblers Kloof, and the neighboring hills where the Boers were well placed by General Botha, the hardest fighting took place. In the struggle to force the Boers from their positions, the English were driven back repeatedly to the river, although their numbers were about twenty-five to one against ours. Their dead and wounded ran well into the hundreds at each attempt, and on two or three occasions were allowed to remain as they had fallen on the open veld, during the whole night, to suffer and die. The English have little or no regard for their dead and wounded, as I will in time to come show. In all these advances the English shells were constantly bursting among their own men and were directly responsible for many of their own dead and wounded. Three Irish regiments were always placed in front, and these were supported by English regiments who kept safely in the background. As on previous occasions, some Irish regiments had surrendered after making a slight resistance. I believe, and hundreds of others believe, that the English deliberately and intentionally made the "mistake" of firing their shells into the Irish regiments, to drive them on and force them to take the entrenched positions from the Boers. This was not the first time, nor was it the last time that they made a mistake of this kind, and in every case it was the Irish who were chosen to suffer. Twice during these first five days of fighting, the good General Botha had granted an armistice to Buller to be used in caring for his dead and wounded, but these were wofully neglected and advantage taken to make better dispositions of his troops.
It is just as much of a latter-day Englishman's nature to be treacherous as it is for an American Indian to be suspicious. Every repulse was followed on the next day by another advance. The heavy lyddite shells kept continually pounding the hills, tearing off their very tops and filling the air with smoke and stones; yet the brave Boers remained unmoved in their positions, and kept up their deadly fire on the advancing Irish regiments. Each day's work was practically a repetition of the preceding one, until the 27th of February, when there was a great change. The Boers had now lain in the mud and water that half filled their trenches and, without relief and without food, fought incessantly for ten days till, being weary and worn and completely exhausted, they reluctantly left their positions and began their retreat.
The famous Krugersdorp Commando under Kemp held Pieter's Hill to the very last moment, and no one about Ladysmith, be he Boer or English, will ever forget the wonderful stand made by those 400 patriots against Buller's whole army and 100 guns. It is perfectly certain that every man of them accounted for at least one Tommie before the final retreat.
On the 28th, Ladysmith was relieved, and the Boers went back to the Biggarsberg Mountains. General White in Ladysmith could plainly see a line of wagons fifteen miles long, yet he made no move to delay or capture them. Worn out and exhausted as the Boers really were, I do not believe that Buller would have been successful in relieving Ladysmith had they not received the report of General Cronje's surrender at Paardeberg on the 27th. This news was deeply felt, and it so thoroughly discouraged the Boers that they lost heart and left positions without orders, which they could have easily continued to hold. To relieve General White and his 12,000 skeletons, General Buller had exploded hundreds of tons of Mr. Chamberlain's lyddite and lost as many men as he succeeded in relieving. Mr. Chamberlain was a big winner, the English heavy losers, and the Tugela Valley is now renowned as an Irish graveyard. A few more wars like the South African would settle all of Ireland's many troubles, because the Irish would all be laid under the sod. How strange it is that a people who have fought against England's tyranny for centuries to secure their freedom, and are still fighting for the same end, will voluntarily join with their old and detested oppressor to deprive another people of their liberty, knowing, too, as they must, that in every instance they weaken themselves and strengthen their old enemy.
Yet, this is exactly what the Irish have done, and I have no sympathy for those who are to-day sleeping in the Tugela Valley as a result of their own voluntary acts.
During a terrific rain storm on the night of the 27th, and in the very eyes of Buller's army on one side and White's on the other, our Irish boys were the chief instruments in pulling down Long Tom from the top of Bulwana Kop. It was fearful and exasperating work, and it was not until two o'clock in the morning that our large gun safely landed at the foot of the kop and started on its way to Elandslaagte. General Botha was near at hand with some 300 or 400 men, but he could have offered little or no resistance had an attempt been made to capture the gun.
Our hundreds of wagons, with all our cannon and maxims, were hauled through heavy mud and across an open flat for twenty miles, and safely landed in the Biggarsberg Mountains, and that, too, in the very presence and before the eyes of an English army of 45,000 trained officers and men, who never moved an inch in our direction.
Quite a cavalry force came out of Ladysmith, but when a few of the Irish boys opened fire on them, they all turned and fled back to town. The English should have captured all our wagons and cannon, and would have done it, too, had they known anything about their business. Buller and White together could have easily trained 150 cannon on us and forced us to abandon everything, but they seemed satisfied to stop just where they were, and, no doubt, congratulated themselves that the Boers had escaped without doing them further damage. Some time before the relief of Ladysmith, the Free State Commandos had left and gone to meet Lord Roberts, who was advancing towards Bloemfontein; so it was only the Transvaal Commandos who took up positions in the Biggarsberg Mountain passes. As the English had a big force on the Tugela River, about eighteen miles in front of Helpmakaar, the Irish Brigade was ordered to go to Helpmakaar and hold them back. Should the English get hold of this place, our positions in the Biggarsberg would no longer be tenable, for the line of retreat to Laing's Nek would then be seriously threatened. We found the Piet Retief Commando there, but about four miles behind the position it should have occupied. We learned, on questioning the officers, that it was too dangerous a place for Piet Retief men, and they would not risk a stand there. We then went and had a look for ourselves, and we decided that 200 men in the position could easily prove a match for any 5000 Englishmen who might come, so we were satisfied to try our luck. It was the strongest position for defence that I had yet seen, for it was impossible to flank it; and to take it, the attacking force had to come along one road, and the distance from the foot of this steep mountain to the top was at least two miles. The English knew that position and that mountain, and never made any effort to take it during our month's residence there.
In the month of April, I received word from Pretoria that about 1,000 Irish and Irish-Americans had arrived at Delagoa Bay, on their way to join my brigade. I was in great glee on receiving this long expected news, and lost no time in going to Pretoria, not only to meet them, but to prepare for them a red hot time with the English. I arranged with the President and Executive Council, to recall the brigade from Helpmakaar, bring it to Elandsfontein, where I would join it with something like a thousand Irish-Americans, and all proceed to Fourteen Streams, where I knew there would be some interesting fighting. Having done this, I at once took the train to Middleburg where I would meet the good boys from free America. I was thoroughly convinced that the Irish and Irish-Americans were intent on doing something good for down-trodden Ireland by proving that England's difficulty was Ireland's opportunity. My hopes were high, and all sort of plans and schemes were passing through my mind when the steam whistle announced that I was in Middleburg. Here I found that the long expected boys would arrive on the following morning. The whole town learned of their coming, and all turned out to greet them. Finally came what I at first supposed to be the advance guard, the American Ambulance Corps of fifty-eight men from Chicago and Massachusetts. They were warmly received with the shouts and hurrahs of the assembled multitude. When I found time to breathe I asked when the fighters would arrive. The answer was "We are the fighters! No more coming that we know off." Now I felt so thoroughly disappointed that I made up my mind to drop dead on the spot, but was saved from such a terrible ordeal by the idea suddenly occurring to me that possibly others would soon follow. I long lived in hope, but only to be disappointed in the end, for no more ever came.
Later on I will give the reasons, for I have since learned just what the trouble was. I was genuinely glad to see the Irish boys, and from them learned that it was through the efforts of my trusted old Arizona friend, Colonel John F. Finerty, of Chicago, and my new and most highly esteemed friend, Patrick J. Judge, of Holyoke, Mass., that sufficient money was raised by private subscriptions to equip thoroughly the Ambulance Corps of fifty-eight men and land them in the Transvaal.
It was not the fault of those two patriotic Irishmen that 100,000 Irish and Irish-Americans were not sent to South Africa to assist that little handful of Boer patriots in their struggle with the mighty British Empire for liberty and independence. In due time I will put the fault just where it belongs. The Boers had enough ambulance corps, so the Chicago and Massachusetts boys removed their red cross chevrons and, after being well equipped, as fighting men, we all went to Johannesburg to join the boys of the old brigade who had just arrived from Helpmakaar. Having met, what a rollicking, joyful good time all these jolly Irish boys had!
CHAPTER IX.
THE FIGHTING IN THE FREE STATE.
Ourorders for Fourteen Streams were countermanded and we were instructed to proceed to Brandfort in the Free State. We took the train without delay and went on our way rejoicing. On reaching Smaldeel, a small station thirty miles from Brandfort, we were ordered to stop and wait for instructions; so we pitched our camp and put everything in readiness for a hot time, for we learned that Lord Roberts and his army of 90,000 men were advancing from Bloemfontein. Before our new arrivals receive their baptismal fire I will relate what had taken place in the Free State while we were engaged at Ladysmith.
GENERAL LORD ROBERTS, F.M.Notorious for destroying women and children and for helplessness when confronted with an armed foe.
During the month of November while we were in daily skirmishes with the English, who were trying to find a way of escape, there was heavy fighting south of Kimberley. Unfortunately we had there one thoroughly incompetent commander, General Prinsloo, of the Free State. General Prinsloo had most excellent commandants and veldcornets, any one of whom would have made every fight a victory in those parts. General de la Rey was with Prinsloo, but the latter had higher rank, much to our regret. General de la Rey is a remarkable man and the Napoleon of the South African War. In due time I will give a short account of this great and good man and the deeds he accomplished.
Generals Prinsloo and de la Rey, with their combined force of some 2,000 men and, I think, two guns and two maxim Nordenfelts, were attacked on November 23rd by Lord Methuen with a force of 10,000 to 12,000 men and two or three batteries, together with several maxims. Of course Lord Methuen had an overwhelming force as compared to that of the Boers, yet, had Prinsloo acted with General de la Rey, the British would have suffered a severe defeat.
Prinsloo left his position just at the moment of victory, and, by so doing, came near getting General de la Rey and his men captured. They had actually to fight their way out. The republican forces fell back to Rooilaagte in the direction of Kimberley. Here the burghers to some extent fortified themselves, and awaited the arrival of Methuen. He, with his re-enforced army appeared and opened up their batteries on the Boer positions in the early morn of November 25th. A very hard and bloody battle was fought here, and it was Prinsloo again who gave way at the wrong moment and allowed Methuen to credit himself with another victory. Prinsloo was always bent on giving way just at the wrong time, much to the disappointment and disgust of General de la Rey, and this, too, in the face of the fact that General de la Rey always took the brunt and did the hardest fighting. The world now has read Methuen's reports of these fights and the Boer reports too, so it is only necessary for me to say that the former's losses were exceedingly heavy, while those of the latter were exceedingly small. Judging by the losses, Methuen was badly defeated in both instances, but an English officer does not care how many men are shot dead so long as he does not lose a gun or have to retreat. To show the true character of this lordly Methuen, I will say that every low and beastly epithet his vulgar imagination could invent, he applied to the enemy, that he might excuse himself for shooting some twenty or thirty Boers, some of them wounded, whom he had captured. Of course he must add another lie, English-like, by claiming the abuse of the white flag.
Now the time was ripe for the Boers to begin to shoot in retaliation the British officers and soldiers at Pretoria, who were spending their time playing football, etc. But the Boer is strictly governed by his religion, and the whole world could not induce him to resort to retaliation under any circumstances. I longed to be in chief command just for a few hours, but, fortunately for many British, I was not. The Boers were convinced that Lord Methuen would receive his punishment on the Day of Judgment, and I was just as thoroughly convinced that I did not believe in such long postponements in dealing with Englishmen.
The Boers fell back from Rooilaagte to Modder River, not many miles from Kimberley. Here Generals Prinsloo and de la Rey were re-enforced by the long expected General Piet Cronje, with about 500 men. He had come all the way from Mafeking on the western border of the Transvaal, but, tired as he and his men were, they were all ready and game for fight. Before Cronje's arrival, General de la Rey had practically assumed command over General Prinsloo, and placed the Boer forces in position on the Modder River to give Methuen and his army another fight. On his arrival, General Cronje, being known to be the best fighter in the land, was given command over all the Boer forces. He looked over the ground and having thoroughly approved in every detail the dispositions of the men that General de la Rey had made, he calmly awaited the arrival of Methuen. Lord Methuen will never forget the battle of Modder River, and hundreds of his men will never remember it. The English were then and are now as afraid of General Cronje, as a baboon is of a snake, and I might say here, that if you bring a baboon in contact with a snake, dead or alive, and prevent him from running away, he will actually have a spasm. Methuen did not find out, however, until it was too late, that Cronje was there, for otherwise he would have asked for something like 20,000 men additional. Finally the 28th of November came, and there was Methuen and his army.
After carrying out his usual program of bombarding for several hours, Methuen advanced his lines, and the rifle firing began. After hours of terrific fighting, during which Cronje and de la Rey had unmercifully slaughtered, and in the end driven back the English, and during which time the Free Staters, too, had covered themselves with glory, and just at the moment when a great victory was really won, General Prinsloo suddenly withdrew his men and allowed the English to turn his flank. He seemed to be afraid to win a victory, and it is a marvel that General Cronje or General de la Rey did not shoot him or drive him to his home and put one of his thoroughly competent commandants in his place. The result of this sudden withdrawal was that the Boer forces had to fall back, and now we find them at Magersfontein.
As Methuen had made but slow progress in killing Boers in honorable fight on the battlefield, he now gave way to his savage inclination and had some twenty or thirty wounded Boers whom he found in a farmhouse near the battlefield, deliberately shot in cold blood.Of course Methuen had seen his men fall by the hundred, and no doubt he was highly enraged at the sight, but it requires a brute to deliberately take the lives of helpless, wounded men, and, in my experience with the brute creation, which is considerable, I am sure that there are exceedingly few brutes that would do such a thing. Even the sneaking hyena would refrain unless he were dying of hunger. Now Lord Methuen had learned that Cronje was on deck, and in the best of health, so he called for all the re-enforcements at hand and brought up his decimated force to something like 15,000 men and six batteries. Cronje was lucky too, and increased his force to something more than 4,000, but not much more. Methuen's were all trained and tried men, and, as the English would put it, invincible; Cronje had his ordinary farmers who knew nothing whatever about military training. No doubt Methuen did lots of thinking, but I do not believe he called any council of war, because he is too conceited and arrogant to do such a thing. He who deigns to make a suggestion to a lord is very liable to be sent away and told to attend to his own business. Although he is supremely arrogant, I think he did some shaking in his boots because he knew that Cronje was in front. For several days after his terrible smashup on Modder River, Methuen spent his time in recuperating and awaiting re-enforcements. Cronje and de la Rey spent their time in preparing for a fight at Magersfontein. In front of the ridge on which they concealed their small guns and maxims they put the Boers to work digging a trench. The trench being finished, it was so well concealed that the English could not see it. They knew that this scheme would work, because Methuen would not think of sending out any reconnoitring parties to find out just how the Boers were to make their fight. He would tell you that it was unnecessary because he had a balloon, and from that balloon he could see the Boers far behind their actual, but unknown to him position. The Boers were not in the trenches by day, but were far behind them. At night you could find everyone of them there, and in perfect readiness for battle.
CHAPTER X.
MAGERSFONTEIN AND PAARDEBERG.
Atlast the day came. It was Dec. 10th when Methuen and his big army came up and without delay began with their usual introduction, by turning six batteries upon the supposed position of the Boer force. For two days this formidable array of field and lyddite guns continued to roar and keep the very heavens filled with heavy steel shells that tore up the earth generally. No reply was sent back from any part of Cronje's lines, so Lord Methuen alone can lay claim to making all that deafening noise that so frightened birds and beasts during the 10th and 11th; but when you say noise, you have the sum total of the work accomplished by his vigorous display of fireworks. It was in the very early morning of the 12th, that Lord Methuen decided that the fearful Cronje and his "dirty" Boers were either demolished or so terribly demoralized that they had fled for safety miles to their rear, because he had not heard a murmur from them for two days. Any man with a little grain of sense would, at least at this early hour in the morning, have sent in advance a well extended line of skirmishers to find out if the enemy were near at hand or had actually fled. No; this way of doing business would never meet with the approval of an English lord who had, by the accident of birth, inherited the brains of all past generations in his family line; so he moved his lines forward in close order.
When Methuen's lines arrived within about seventy-five yards of Cronje's trenches, the demolished or absconded "dirty" Boers sent a greeting in the form of a long, dazzling line of fire, which instantly died away, and with it General Wauchope and almost his entire Black Watch, the crack regiment of the English army. Never in all history was such a bloody and disastrous battle fought and won in such a short time. Methuen's men, one and all, regardless of orders or order, fled as fast as their legs could carry them, and the Boers did not fail to apply the whip and spur at every stride they made. Although the battle was now virtually over, yet some hard fighting took place during the day. Methuen could not reconcile himself to his most disastrous and disgraceful defeat at the hands of such a small force of Boers, so spent the greater part of the day in losing more before he finely concluded that he would have to return to his old camp on Modder River.
It is not my purpose to give long descriptions of battles in this narrative, for I know they are tiresome, but, painful to me as it may be, I must say something of that little band of Scandinavians who were with Cronje in that great victory. I knew personally almost every one of that band of sixty men. The Scandinavian is quiet, gentlemanly, and the most tractable soldier in camp, but the most daring, reckless and fearless soldier I have ever seen, when it comes to fighting. Not satisfied with the early morning's work, this little body moved out, on its own account, after the sun was well up, and deliberately attacked Methuen's army. They actually engaged a force of at least fifteen to one against them, and fought till they were practically exterminated as a body. Sure it is that each one of that reckless little band accounted for at least one Englishman before he forfeited his own life. Having practically wiped them out, the English set to work to rob and strip them, and punch their bodies full of holes. General Cronje captured a small bunch of prisoners during the day, but sent them to Pretoria to play football. Early in the afternoon, Methuen, having satisfied himself that he had murdered enough of his own men, decided to retreat, and did so, but at a much more rapid pace than he had expected, for now Cronje's guns were turned upon him, and induced him to move more rapidly, and quickly vanish in the distance. Here was a fearful slaughter of English, the greatest so far during the war, but only because this great battle was fought just three days before that of Colenso, near Ladysmith, where General Louis Botha so terribly defeated General Buller and his fine army.
After Lord Methuen reached his old camp on Modder River, I have an idea that he did some really hard thinking, for he must make a report, and in that report he must show that his defeat was a victory, because a lord cannot be defeated. Unfortunately, I have never seen his report, but it is safe to conclude that he saw the Boers in overwhelming numbers and that some Colonial had proved traitor to him and led him into an ambush. I merely mention this as a guess, because it is the usual method adopted by the British officer to hide his incapacity. Methuen's soldiers are not through to this day damning him for his conduct in this battle, but we all know that soldiers' words are but naught in England when a lord speaks. It is an awful shame, but very true.
Methuen returned to his old camp fully convinced that he had had enough. He had no desire to try his luck again against Cronje and he never did. Cronje stopped just where he was for several weeks, looking for another advance of Methuen, or some other English army. He did not care how many came, for he was there to fight. I must say this about General Cronje that he may be thoroughly understood. He is stubbornness itself, will take advice from no one, is absolutely fearless, and constantly craves a fight with the English. I do not believe the world's history can show his equal as a commandant, but as a general he is an absolute failure. He must have some one over him, and under no circumstances must he be allowed to command. Order him to take a kopje, and he is sure to take it. Order him to hold a position, and he is sure to hold it. Order him to retreat, and he will do it. But put him in supreme command, and the combined influence of the immortal gods could not induce him to retreat, it matters not what the odds against him, or what the circumstances might be. Every drop of blood that courses through his body literally burns with patriotism, and of the whole Africander race I believe that General Piet Cronje would be the first to step forward and lay down his life for the freedom and independence of his people.
But I must say of General Cronje that he is a man wrapped up in his own conceit. He considered himself the only great fighter in South Africa, and, when captured, he is the very man to say that the Boers should surrender because the great Cronje can no longer lead them. In this respect he is a fool, but fools often become wise men by experience. If I should hear that General Cronje was condemning his fellow countrymen for prolonging the war after his capture, I should not be surprised, because he is so eaten up with his own importance.
Such is the man, General Piet Cronje, and may he live long, and have, as a commandant, one more crack at the British, and then I think all will be well for South Africa!
After the Battle of Magersfontein, General de la Rey was sent to Colesberg to take command of the forces against General French. General Piet De Wet and General Schoeman had been fighting French daily, and had been gradually driven back to their strong defensive position at Colesberg. The Boer forces were about 2,500 strong, but were divided into small commands in order to guard a wide extent of country. General French had only 15,000 men and thirty guns, so he made but small progress in his advance on Colesberg. The Boers hotly contested every inch of ground, and almost every one of the little commands did some daring work. Early in January, General de la Rey arrived and at once assumed command. Hot skirmishes were now the general order of the day all along the lines, and on January 25th, west of Colesberg, General de la Rey had made it so warm for him, that, instead of continuing to advance, General French changed his mind and retreated. De la Rey followed him, but never came in touch with him again because he had left for Cape Town. It seems that after the Battle of Magersfontein, Lord Roberts became much frightened at the presence of Cronje and called for help.
French was ordered to report to him at once, and left early in January to help Roberts out of his troubles. General Clements took French's place, but could do no better than his predecessor against de la Rey. On February 11th, the Battle of Slingersfontein was fought. It lasted for many hours and was stubbornly contested by both sides, but in the end de la Rey proved too much for him, and General Clements fled to Arundel, forgetting to take his camp with him. The burghers were hungry and thirsty and this camp amply satisfied all their wants. General de la Rey was now directed to return to the Modder River and co-operate with General Cronje against General Roberts and his mighty army. During his short period of operating about Colesberg he had captured some 500 prisoners, driven French's army back and made good his record of never having been defeated.
In a few weeks after Magersfontein, General Cronje saw that the British were appearing in thousands in all directions, and he finally made up his mind to move his little command to Paardeberg. His very stubbornness prevented his moving earlier, but he was satisfied. He saw that he was being gradually but surely surrounded by an enormous army, yet he never quailed. He was begged by such patriots and great and competent generals as Christian De Wet, de la Rey, Phillip Botha and even Com.-Gen. Joubert, of the Transvaal, to get out of the ring nearly completed about him while he had an opportunity. He utterly ignored all of them, practically told them to go to Hades, and silenced them, for he was there to fight, and was going to fight. He did fight, and can history show anything to compare with it?
GENERAL LORD KITCHENER.One who believes that the only way to establish permanent peace in South Africa is to destroy the Boer women and children.
I am not going into the details of this nine days' fight, but will give the main features and the result. Here was a common, ordinary farmer, without any military training or education, in command of a little more than 4,000 equally untrained farmers, and four or five old Krupp guns. With him were a great number of refugee Boer women and children, who had come to him for protection against the insults and outrages of the British soldiery. Sad to relate, this is the actual truth, yet we still hear Anglo-Americans speaking of the civilized English. Opposed to him was the very flower of the English Empire. There were Lord Roberts, Lord Kitchener, General Kelly-Kenny, that able commander, Hector MacDonald, General French and many other stars of the British army. Altogether they had some 50,000 men around General Cronje. These men were all tried military men, trained and educated. Besides, Lord Roberts had 120 cannon, field guns and lyddite guns. The British may tell you that there were mountains there higher than Mount Everest, but believe me, there are no mountains there whatever. General Cronje and his little band of patriots were on the banks of the Modder River, where infantry, cavalry and artillery could manoeuvre without any difficulty. It was, I think, on the 18th of February that Roberts began with all his guns to bombard Cronje. Almost continually for nine days, 120 cannon were busy trying to destroy that little band of patriots. Once Lord Kitchener thought he would play a Khartoum act. He recalled the time when he charged upon and murdered some 10,000 to 15,000 unarmed negroes at Khartoum, and saw no reason why he could not do the same thing with 4,000 Boers. He forgot that the negroes were armed only with sticks, while the Boers had mausers. He advanced boldly, had hundreds and hundreds of his men slaughtered, and then fled as rapidly as he could. After the battle had been raging for two or three days, General Cronje asked for an armistice to bury his dead. Lord Roberts positively refused. During the whole war the Boers never once denied the English an armistice for that purpose, although they knew that the English, in every instance, took advantage of it to strengthen their position. There is a wide difference between a Boer savage and a civilized Englishman. Give me the former, but deliver me from the latter!
As Roberts had captured Cronje's ambulance wagons and would not allow any doctor to go and attend to his wounded, and as he was not permitted to bury his dead, of course, the condition of the camp became such that the women and children could not endure it; and the Boers too were suffering on account of it, so Cronje's commandants and veldcornets forced him to hoist the white flag on February 27th. The battle was over and Lord Roberts had Cronje and his 4,000 men as prisoners of war. No doubt General Cronje would have been shot had there not been about 750 British officers and 4,000 soldiers as prisoners of war in Pretoria. This alone saved the old patriot's life, and we all know it.
On receiving the first news of the capture of the great Cronje and his army by the wonderful Lord Roberts, Commander-in-Chief, A.B.C.D.E., etc., all London took a holiday, went crazy mad, and the papers put out their posters showing that Cronje with 15,000 or 20,000 or 30,000 "dirty" Boers had been captured. When they finally learned that Cronje had only 4,000 men against Lord Robert's big army, all slunk their heads and retired to their homes. What Lord Roberts considered his greatest victory the world at large considered his greatest defeat.
What the English losses were we do not know, and I know that the English people do not know either, for Mr. Chamberlain says that the death lists are not yet completed. If the complete returns are ever made known, I think we shall see that Roberts had as many men put out of action as Cronje had in his command. General Cronje had about seventy men killed and about three times that number wounded.
I will now go to Stormberg and Aliwal North, the two really most important points on the Free State border, for here was the easy and natural way for the English to reach Bloemfontein.
At the beginning of the war the English occupied and well fortified Stormberg, and this was the only sensible thing they did. After a few weeks occupation, they, for some reason unknown to me, abandoned this position and fell back to Molteno. Of course the Boers lost no time in taking possession of the good work the English had done and abandoned. Generals Olivier and Grobler were there, and old General Hendrik Schoeman was near at hand. Schoeman was a fraud and afterwards joined the English to be blown up by a supposed empty lyddite shell in his home in Pretoria while engaged in a plot with others against his people. That empty shell had a little lyddite caked in the bottom, and Schoeman, having struck a match and lighted his pipe, threw the still burning match into the empty shell. An explosion followed, tearing out the side of the building, killing Schoeman, another traitor by the name of Van Der Merwe, and Schoeman's daughter, and seriously wounding old man Viljoen. This proves that it is a good thing for traitors to make useful souvenirs of empty lyddite shells. It was a source of regret to all, however, that Miss Schoeman should have entered the room just as the explosion took place, and lost her life.
Both Grobler and Olivier were good officers and did good work. The total Boer force was less than a thousand with which they had to oppose General Gatacre and 3,000 men. Besides, Gatacre had six or eight cannon, as well as several maxims. Few shots were fired by either side until the 10th of December, when General Gatacre attacked. The fighting was very hot while it lasted, but it did not continue long before Gatacre saw his little army cut into pieces, and in a rapid and disorderly retreat to Molteno. In addition to his severe loss in dead and wounded, two cannon and over 600 of his men were taken. Before this battle all the English and Colonial papers were full of the wonderful deeds and the great capacity of this distinguished soldier, General Gatacre, and it was certain that he would make a skip to Stormberg and then a jump and land in Bloemfontein, leaving nothing but dead Boers behind him. The British officer is a wonderful genius on paper, but a very weak sister on the battlefield. General Gatacre did a great deal in this district towards the ultimate independence of South Africa; for the number of men he arrested, charged as spies and then shot, is very great, and all their names are dearly cherished in the hearts of the Africanders. This battle finished the great Gatacre; at any rate, we never heard of him again during the war.
CHAPTER XI.
DE WET LOOMS UP.
Nowwe will go to the western border of the Transvaal and see what has been done at Mafeking. No one ever displayed any interest in Mafeking, yet some skirmishing and letter writing was going on daily. General Snyman commanded the Boers and Baden-Powell the English. Mafeking is situated in an open flat dotted with a few small hills here and there. Baden-Powell dug holes and put his men and some women in them. They lived like prairie dogs. He had three or four years' supply of good ammunition, and there was no reason why he should not have been happy and contented. He laid big mines, but they never caught any one. He loaded cars with dynamite and tried to explode them among the Boers, but he always failed. He would make bold attacks, lose a lot of men, then run back, crawl into his hole, and write a long letter complaining of ill-treatment. So it went on from day to day until the place was relieved. Captain Eloff had the place taken once, but old Snyman failed to come up with his 300 men, so the brave Eloff was left alone and captured. Snyman had given his solemn word to Eloff that he would not fail him.
GENERAL DE WET
Of all of the many utterly worthless generals the Boers had at the beginning of the war, I am sure that Snyman was the worst, and I am not certain that he would be a success at herding sheep. After Baden-Powell was released from Mafeking, we heard but little more about him as a fighting man. Judging by the volume of insane letters that he wrote while imprisoned, it is easy to conclude that he had at least two screws loose in his head. Many of the constabulary police we captured told us that although Baden-Powell was nominally in command, yet he never exercised any authority over them.
"Every little while," they said, "he would have to go home for private treatment because there was something wrong about his head." I fully believe this, for the papers would announce his departure for London on account of sickness, and, after a three or four months' absence we would see him in some of the London illustrated papers togged up in great style, with a huge Texas sombrero on his head, the loose flowing cowboy shirt, trousers to match, and a very tall pair of top boots. Then it was that he intended to return. To be shot—with a camera—is his greatest delight, and to write foolish letters is his hobby.
After all, General Baden-Powell, there were worse specimens than you in the English army during the war, and there are still many worse specimens in that same army to-day, many of whom hold higher rank than you. When I say that you have two screws loose in your head, I may be doing you a good service in the eyes of humanity, for you know that you armed several hundred Kaffirs and had them with you in Mafeking, and that several hundred of the British-armed Kaffirs outside of Mafeking murdered many old Boer men, women and children in their homes, who took no part in the war. No sane man, no honorable man, no true soldier would resort to such beastly methods to outdo his ten-fold weaker foe. In fact nobody but a Britisher would be guilty of such infamous conduct. Colonel Plumer with his mixed command of regulars and volunteers north of Mafeking and on the northern boundary of the Transvaal came so near doing nothing, that I will pass him by and give some of the reasons why the Boers laid siege to Ladysmith, Kimberley and Mafeking. I admit that I cannot give a good one, for I don't believe there is one. However, the Boer officers generally thought it the best thing to do. Commandant-General Joubert told me that he thought that by holding Ladysmith closely invested, General White would soon consent to a surrender, and thereby save much bloodshed. The idea of killing people was repulsive to him, and, furthermore, he could see no reason for it. We could easily have gone to Maritzburg and then to Durban before Buller arrived, and at the same time held General White's line of communication. This would actually have put General White in a worse predicament than he was in at Ladysmith. He could have done nothing, for all bridges and the railway behind would be destroyed and our total force was as large as his by the fifth of November. Once the Boers had seized Maritzburg, General White could have done nothing. It was all in our hands, and besides we would have received several thousand recruits from the Natal Boers. For no other reason except to save life was Ladysmith besieged.
Kimberley could have easily been taken, but here another factor came in. To take the place, all the Boers had to do was to destroy De Aar Junction, the supply depot there, and the branch line to Kimberley. Having done this, the next step was to proceed on the Cape Railway line and destroy it. The English could have done nothing without these lines, and Kimberley would have fallen without one shot being fired. But President Steyn prevented this because it put the Dutch Cape Ministry in a bad dilemma. This Ministry was friendly to the Boers and no doubt wished them every success, but had the Boers proceeded as I have suggested, the British Government would have charged the Ministry with treasonable conduct. So De Aar Junction and all the railway lines were allowed to remain in good order for the use of Lord Roberts and his army. The Boers in their every act were always swayed by their love of justice and humanity, and were always ready to sacrifice themselves in order to do good to others. It was a vital mistake they made, and I repeatedly told them so, because they knew, and I knew, that the liberty and independence of their land were at stake. I used to beg General Joubert to throw the whole force of the Boers in the Free State into Cape Colony and destroy all bridges and railway lines, for I knew, if this was done, we would get 15,000 or 20,000 recruits in Cape Colony, and the English could never then push their way across the Orange River. But the good, humane General Joubert would never consent to do anything that might cause trouble for his friends in Cape Town. I respected him for the stand he took; in fact, I admired and loved him for it; but it was not business in dealing with such an unscrupulous enemy as Great Britain.
Ladysmith and Kimberley were practically relieved on the same day, February 27th, and a few days afterwards followed the relief of Mafeking. To lay siege to Mafeking was positively foolish, and had the Boers allowed General Baden-Powell to come out, why, they would have had him and all his men in Pretoria for their Christmas dinner at President Kruger's expense. Mafeking was of little or no importance to either party in the war, so long as the English were not permitted to cross the Orange River, and they never could have crossed or reached the Orange River if all the bridges and railways in Cape Colony had been destroyed. The Karoo, a wide desert, must first be crossed, and no large army would dare make the venture of crossing.
The way the English managed their transportation, and the food they furnished to the soldier, would have sufficed to kill half the army. Had the Boers of the Free State combined and entered Cape Colony, General Buller would have given up all hope of relieving Ladysmith, and General White would have been a prisoner of war. What a fatal, fatal mistake it was to give so much consideration to the personal feelings of others, when the very life of the land was at stake! There were so many ways by which the Boers could have beaten the English and maintained the independence of the two little Republics, that it is positively painful for me to think or write about the incidents and outcome of the war. I hope with all my heart that the Boers in the future will remember and never forget that it is absolutely impossible for religion and humanity to contend successfully against unscrupulousness and treachery in this civilized age of the twentieth century. If they will only remember this, and act accordingly, the day is not far distant when they will drive the British from South Africa's shores, and the Africander race will, for the first time in 250 years, breathe the air of permanent peace and be recognized by all the nations of the earth as a free and independent people, in a land over which will wave the Africander flag to the end of time.
In the last days of March General De Wet scored another victory against a far superior force under the command of General Broadwood. It was at Sanna's Post that General De Wet placed his 300 men in the bed of Koorn Spruit on both sides of the road crossing, and gave orders that not a shot was to be fired until he gave the command. The previous day he had directed Generals P. Cronje, J.B. Wessels, C.L. Froneman and Piet De Wet with some 1,100 burghers and four guns, to proceed to the east side of the Modder River, and bombard Sanna's Post as soon as it was light on the following morning. This would drive General Broadwood, his 2,000 men and nine guns, by him and his men concealed in the Koorn Spruit, for this was directly on their line of retreat to Bloemfontein. When General De Wet gave these orders, General Broadwood was at Thaba'Nchu but, to his surprise, he, General Broadwood, after it became dark moved his force to the Bloemfontein Water Works in the very presence of General De Wet and his men concealed in the Koorn Spruit. At daylight General De Wet discovered this overwhelming force at close quarters, but he was not frightened for he felt that in his position he was equal to it. General Broadwood was breaking camp, and some of his teams and men were just starting on their way to Bloemfontein. The Boers by strict orders, lay low and said nothing until the carts and wagons reached them, when, as fast as they arrived, they were made prisoners and concealed in the bed of the spruit, that is, a deep ravine. After nearly all the wagons and carts and some 200 Tommies had been made prisoners, General Broadwood discovered that there was something wrong about that spruit, and as he had five cannon very near to it he concluded to withdraw them and put them in a safer place. He was sorely disappointed for General De Wet had his eye on those five guns and besides the other generals with their 1,100 men opened fire on Broadwood's camp at the same time. Now was the time for confusion, and General Broadwood and his 2,000 men were so terribly confused that they lost no time in running for their lives, but they had sense enough to dodge the ford where General De Wet and his 300 men were concealed. On both sides of General De Wet, General Broadwood's brave 2,000 Britishers passed within easy rifle range and as fast as they could run.
As the 2,000 panic-stricken brave Britishers passed in review, General De Wet and his 300 patriots did not fail to make their mausers sing in unerring tones and give them a good send off. General Broadwood and two-thirds of his men escaped. He left behind 350 men killed and wounded, 480 prisoners, seven cannon and 117 wagons to the tender mercies of General De Wet. The total Boer loss was three killed and five wounded. The British Government and all London rejoiced over General Broadwood's escape. I must confess that he deserved a great deal of credit and merited the gratulations of his Queen, for some other British general might have fared worse.
In the first days of April, after his great success at Sanna's Post, General De Wet collected more men and went to Reddersberg where he knew there were some English troops. On his arrival he found the English, but they did not make much resistance. They abused the white flag, and by so doing, killed one of his veldcornets and killed six of his men. The English having hoisted their white flag and all firing having ceased, General De Wet and his men advanced to receive their arms, ammunition, etc. On arriving within close range the English suddenly began firing again although their white flag was still flying. General De Wet's men followed their example, and within five minutes several more white flags were flying, but so furious were the burghers at the English treachery that General De Wet was unable to restrain them till 100 English had been killed and wounded. Now the remaining 470 gladly and promptly laid down their arms. That one act of treachery caused the death of that brave and good veldtcornet, Du Plessis, and General De Wet failed to appreciate the cause of humanity when he did not shoot down every officer among his 470 prisoners.
CHAPTER XII.
PAYING AN INSTALMENT ON THE IRISH DEBT.
I willnow return to the Irish boys whom I left at Smaldeel station, thirty miles north of Brandfort in the Free State. During the few days we spent here, every preparation was made for hot, lively work, for we knew that it was near the time when orders would come to advance and meet Lord Roberts and his great army of 90,000 men, with cannon in proportion. On the afternoon of May 1st, 1900, we received instructions to proceed to Brandfort and join with General de la Rey, so, having packed all tents, baggage, etc., in a freight car—which we scarcely ever expected to see again,—we started on our way, and never a happier or more delighted lot of boys went to a holiday picnic than those that went to face English bullets and shells.
It was a long, cold ride, and late in the afternoon of the following day we were camped in the bush on the bank of the little creek at Brandfort. Rumors were soon going the rounds that the British were near at hand, but it was so dark that we could not have seen them had they been only twenty feet away. So we decided to go to sleep and get up before daylight in the morning, that we might be ready to meet trouble.
In the early morning we learned that the English had slept in the bush on the same creek, a few miles below us, and as soon as the sun came up we saw them. There before us was Roberts with his 90,000 men, by far the largest army that any of us had ever seen, and, as far as we knew, there was to oppose him a mouthful of Irishmen at Brandfort. The Russian attache, Colonel Gourko, the French attache, Captain Demange, and the American attache, Captain Carl Reichmann, were there too. I think everyone of them came near being captured, for they were a plucky lot of fellows and were determined to see how the English would act in the face of a handful of Irishmen. I don't know how the spectacle struck the attaches, but the English reminded me of a lot of ants whose routine of action had been disturbed by some mischievous boy, for they seemed to be moving aimlessly in all directions. I really believe that Roberts and his 90,000 men were afraid that a few hundred Boers might lay an ambush for them at Brandfort. This idea is preposterous, but I tell you that Englishmen are terribly afraid of Boers, and when they see one, that one will appear as many as at least ten to them.
South of Brandfort about three miles, there is a line of kopjes running east and west. Several columns of cavalry were moving south of them and parallel to them. It was plain that they intended to attack that line of kopjes. There were no Boers in them at the time, but the English imagined they were full of them. Early in the morning the Heidelburg Commando, about 600 strong, joined with us at the tall hill by Brandfort. All then went at full speed to reach the kopjes before the English. We barely succeeded, for no sooner had we dismounted than the English began with both cannon and rifle to make it warm for us.
The new boys from Chicago and Massachusetts, although it was their first time under fire, were in great glee, and with the old men of the brigade began to fire. Although huge shells tore up the earth about them, and thousands of bullets were chipping stones and singing in the air, yet not one of them seemed to realize that he was in any danger whatever. They were all too intent on their own work to realize their danger. Between the Irish boys and the Heidelburg Commando there was a large and very high kopje, so that neither party could see the other. The Irish boys succeeded in driving the English right back and were much pleased with their work. About two p.m., a courier came near me and yelled out, "General Spruit says get your men away as quickly as possible." In loud tones I asked, "What is the trouble?" But he was in too much of a hurry to give answer, and he was soon far on his way across the flat in our rear. I called to the boys and told them to come quickly, as there was imminent danger somewhere. Irish-like, they wanted to argue the case, for they saw no danger and besides they were having a really good time. I quickly told them to come, as there was no time for argument. I knew General Spruit well, and when he says "get out quickly," I know it is time to get out. We raced down the kopje, mounted our horses and started across the flat towards Brandfort. Much to our surprise, we saw all the hills about Brandfort literally covered with English cavalry. I looked for the Heidelburg Commando and found that it must have retreated hours before, for not a man of it could be seen in any direction. We were certainly in a serious position, for our line of retreat was cut off by thousands of English, and there were thousands in front of us. To get out at all, we had to march across an open flat and pass within 2,500 yards of the English, for there was only one pass through the mountains in our rear. We crossed the flat and, having reached the base of the mountains, I called the men and told them that it looked like a hopeless case for us. There really was not the slightest show for us because all the English had to do was to ride down 1,000 or 1,500 yards, and we were completely hemmed in.
I always swore that I would never be captured alive, and told the boys so. I also told them that I was going to make a run for the road that leads through the pass, and asked them what they wished to do. They said they would make the run with me. We started at once in single file along a path that wound its way through the bush. This led us to the left and front of the English. Every man had his eye pinned on the English, and a dead silence reigned. I was terribly worried and frightened too, for I fully expected to see the English move at every moment and interpose themselves between us and the road. On we rode until we were right in front of them and about 2000 yards distant. I felt a little better, for the English had not yet moved. I was constantly watching the hills on my left, in the hope that I might see a chance of climbing them. Fortune favored me, for I discovered a good path running up the hills, and I concluded that, as it was an emergency, we could go where the goats had gone, and so turned to the left on to this tiny little path. It was a hard climb, but we reached safe ground on top just as the British made up their minds to take us in. They were too late, as usual, and only advanced a small distance, when they turned about and went back. It was a very cold day, but the terrible strain the men and I had passed through, warmed all of us into a heavy perspiration. It was General Hutton who kindly allowed us to escape. He said in his report that he thought we had some English prisoners with us, and therefore did not dare to fire on us. The Chicago and Massachusetts boys had on khaki uniforms, and that is why Hutton was deceived. His excuse was a poor one, just the same, for he could easily have blocked our way without firing a shot, and besides any ordinary field glass at his distance would have shown him that every man carried a rifle. We owed our escape entirely to British stupidity.
As no Boers could be seen from the hills, we made up our minds that we were very far behind everybody. As it was now nearly sundown, we started out to put a few miles between us and the British. We had not gone far when we found ourselves in the camp lately occupied by the Heidelburg Commando. Here we found coffee, sugar, bread and meat, and as we had had nothing to eat all day, we stopped and had a good feast. Then our poor, tired horses enjoyed their feast too, and it gave me more pleasure to see them at their mealies than to eat myself.
It was dark before we saddled up and started on our way in search of the Boers. Finally we reached the main road and near by was a stack of oats at a farm house. I told the boys to help themselves, and every man piled on his horse all the oats he could well manage. We then went on our way until we reached a little farm in the open flat that I knew was about nine miles from Brandfort, so here we concluded to camp for the night. It was about ten o'clock when a courier rode into camp looking for me. He pointed out the direction of General de la Rey's camp and told me that the General wished to see me early in the morning. I was anxious to see the General too, for I did not like the idea of being alone in front of Lord Robert's army. Early on the following morning I took two men and started in search of General de la Rey. My directions carried me obliquely towards Brandfort and I concluded that the General must have camped very near the English. We had gone about a mile when I saw seven men dressed as the Boers usually are, riding alongside a hill between us and Brandfort. The two Africander scouts with me declared they were Boers, and I declared they were English in Boer clothes. The way they held their legs and their position in the saddle had formed my opinion. An Englishman on a horse always reminds me of a wooden clothespin. We decided to go ahead, for our direction would not lead us into trouble, yet I did a lot of thinking about those seven men, for there was a very deep kloof near them, and the whole English army could be easily concealed in it. We had gone about another mile when we came upon one of General de la Rey's men on the look out. I knew him and asked him if he had seen the seven men. He said no, and then pointed out to me just where General de la Rey was encamped. I galloped all the way, because I thought there was danger in that kloof. I was so certain that I told Commandant Trichardt, of the artillery, that the English were near at hand, and that he would do well to inspan and prepare for business.
GENERAL DE LA REY. WHO NEVER LOST A BATTLE
I did not get to see General de la Rey because he had gone to see his brother who had been seriously wounded the previous day. I must say that before reaching General de la Rey's camp I sent one of the men with me, Hendrik Slegkamp, after giving him my wire-cutters, back to the Irish camp with instructions to saddle up as quickly as possible and fall back to some kopjes about two miles in the rear. All the farms in that country are entirely surrounded by wire fences and one can't get through without wire-cutters. The last I saw of Hendrik, he was going at a full gallop. After chatting with Colonel Trichardt for about fifteen minutes, he ordered all mules and horses to be spanned in and saddled up, and then we started back towards my own camp. Knowing the exact direction, we took a short cut and, having reached the top of a ridge about one mile from General de la Rey's camp and about two miles from my own, we were fired upon from a mealie field. Across the flat I saw the Irish boys under fire and flying to the kopjes in the rear. We could not get through the wire fences because I had let Hendrik have my cutters, and the English at long range were making it very warm for us. There was a little cottage about 400 yards away, and we put spurs to our horses and reached it as quickly as possible. A little Dutch woman showed us a sheep path which would lead us to the small gates that opened from one farm to the other. That was about the hottest path that we ever travelled, for the English had found our range and were making use of it. My boy's horse was slightly wounded; otherwise we were all right. I saw that the Irish were safe on the kopje, but we could not get to them on account of the wire fences. Just as General de la Rey's men had saddled up and all were ready to move, the English opened fire on him, but he managed to get his guns, wagons and everything out safely. The whole country seemed to be alive with English, and they all came out of that deep kloof where I had seen the seven men. I felt it in my very bones that the English were in that kloof, and acted accordingly. It was a lucky thing for all of us that I did.
During the evening I reached the Irish boys, and we crossed the Vet River and went into camp. Early next morning we met General de la Rey and his men, and there was general rejoicing. The general said he was going to give fight on the river, and put Roberts to a little trouble. With the Irish, he had about 2,500 men to fight Roberts and his 90,000.
The position was a good one, but of course the general knew that he could do no more than make the English do a lot of work, and possibly knock a few of them down before he had to retreat. Roberts finally showed up, and the deployment of that great body of men into fighting formation, with absolute mathematical precision, was really beautiful. I was so interested that I could scarcely take my eyes from such beautiful military figures. That awful man, that brave man, that gallant man, Major J.L. Pretorius, seemed to have no idea of the beautiful at all, for just before the military figure was completed in all its beauty, he fired a shell that fell right among them. That shell simply played the deuce and ruined a most artistic picture. Instead of order, precision and beauty, we now had to witness disorder and pandemonium generally, for the English soldiers broke away, some running one way and some another, not one seeming in the least inclined to take a chance on the next shell that might follow. It was marvellous what havoc one tiny shell could raise in a military-trained and thoroughly disciplined army. Major Pretorius was nothing but a youngster, but then there was nothing in the British army that was anywhere near his equal. For a change, and as the Irish boys were the latest arrivals, General de la Rey said he would hold us as reserves. Major Pretorius started the fight with that shell, and soon 30,000 English with cannon and shell were trying to lay low General de la Rey and 2,500 patriots. When the fighting became really hot and close, the reserve, the Irish boys, were sent for and told to come as quickly as possible to the road crossing the river. We went, but to go into the firing line we had to pass through the belt especially shelled by the English guns. The boys did not murmur; they went out. Strange to say, not one of them received a bullet. Now, they had a close range, and didn't they send the bullets to the right place? I think they did, and I know they did. There were a lot of British to our right and front in a kopje about 1,000 yards distant. I think they were Irish, for the English turned their maxims on them, killed many of them and kept them from firing on us. We did not fire on them because the English were doing the work for us.
That was really a pretty fight in which the Boers did not suffer, and about sundown General de la Rey ordered us to fall back. The Irish boys kept firing away until it was fairly dark, and I became frightened for fear they might be captured. The Boers had all left, and had those fool Englishmen known anything, they might have given us a run for our lives. We remained in order to see out of danger a few young Boers who were in an arroya very close to the English. When we did finally go back, mount our horses and start towards Smaldeel, we ran into the very boys that we had assisted to get out of the arroya, and by a mere piece of luck they didn't fire on us. I was calling to the men to hurry up and my voice was recognized, otherwise we would have received a volley. I had a very excellent pair of field glasses given to me by a Russian Count and I made good use of them when the English were arriving to engage us. In Natal, the Transvaal and the Free State, from the day the war first began, I had tried to convince the Boers of the great importance of destroying the enemy's line of communication. I never succeeded in making any headway, however, for they could not be made to believe in the destruction of property. Here at Vet River I handed General de la Rey my glasses and told him to witness the trains on the opposite ridge from which thousands of infantry were tumbling to give us battle. The general realized now for the first time the strength of my argument, and was thereafter bent on destroying the railway lines. He succeeded in partially convincing General Louis Botha that the destruction of the lines was of the first importance. Volunteers for the purpose were called for, and it was the Irish Brigade that promptly responded. In fact, I believe that the men of the Irish Brigade were the only ones that did, and I believe that they were the only ones among the Boers that understood the business. It having been decided by the Council of War that the bridges and railway lines were to be destroyed, I selected the men that I knew would do the work well. There were little Mike Halley, the ever to be remembered Joe Wade, Jim O'Keefe, Dick Barry, Tom Herlihy, Tom Tierney, and several others whom I selected for this most important work.